


i will possess your heart

by lazulisong



Series: yuri!!! on ice [13]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Ballet, Fluff, Gen, Katsudon Bang 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 17:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10283969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazulisong/pseuds/lazulisong
Summary: Living with Victor is like a dream, a hyper-realistic one that only seems logical as long as you don't wake up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Art by gabrielseductivetrickster: [reblog here!](http://gabedrawz.tumblr.com/post/158377567434/art-for-the-katsudonbang-lazulisong) THANK YOU YOU ARE THE BEST EVEN THOUGH I KEPT SENDING YOU TIRED EMAILS AT LIKE THREE AM
> 
> hahahaha ooooohhhhhh my goddd this one sure took a village but thanks especially to Verity, who got a text last week that was basically PLEASE, WHY DOES THIS STORY SOUND SO WEIRD?, rolled up her sleeves, took out one thousand words of nonsense, and rearranged it to something like coherence. I APPRECIATE U.

Living with Victor is unbelievable.

Things keep happening that Yuri could have never imagined or dreamed of. Victor comes into his room and steals Yuri's dirty laundry when he does his own. "I like doing laundry," he says, sitting crosslegged on the floor, folding Yuri's old American t-shirts and his socks and his leggings with surprising neatness. Yuri's shitty Forever21 leggings don't deserve this much care. Nothing Yuri owns deserves this much care. 

"You don't have to," says Yuri, hovering uneasily by the door to the living room. Victor's wearing a practice shirt he wore in an Under Armour commercial in 2011. It looks a lot more battered than it had then. 

"Shhh," says Victor, "find me the channel with the Power Rangers, I want to watch the Power Rangers." Victor is obsessed with children's television, especially live action monster shows where things explode every two minutes. A less kind person than Yuri would think that said something about him.

Yuri says, "They're not _Power Rangers_ , Power Rangers are _American_ ," and also completely different--an argument he's had fifty times with Phichit, who continues to hold deeply wrong opinions about Rainbowgers. They are not better in the Thai dub, especially with the added villains. That's the one thing they've ever really disagreed on.

Victor folds shirts into squares, so you can see the print on one edge. He insists that the correct way to put them in the drawer is upright, like little cloth files, so you can pick out the one you want right away, instead of going through the entire drawer. Yuri doesn't have enough shirts to worry about finding the one particular one he wants quickly. Mostly he has Mizuno workout shirts, or t-shirts Phichit found him at the mall, which he hardly ever wears.

"You should wear this type of shirt more often," says VIctor, holding up a Phichit shirt up critically. It has a sloth and NAP ALL DAY SLEEP ALL NIGHT printed on it. Yuri genuinely has no idea where Victor found it in his closet. "This one would be very cute on you."

Yuri says, "I - I have to go help Mom," and flees. 

Maybe this is a dream. It feels like it should be a dream.

Victor's so bad at Mario Kart he gets passed back and forth as a handicap when Yuri and Yuu-chan and Nishigori play after the girls go to bed. Victor says it isn't _his_ fault he's so bad at it. He had a deprived childhood, after all.

Yuu-chan and and Yuri look at each other, and Nishigori looks at Yuu-chan. Sometimes Victor says stuff like that, and it's clear that he is saying something true but in a way nobody will call him out on it. 'Makkachin is my best friend.' 'I've always lived by myself, nobody would want to live with me. This is fun!'

Yuri's seen Victor grow up in pictures from a fey creature made of starlight and silver to the Victor of last Grand Prix Finals, but he still doesn't know how serious Victor is when he says things like that. 

Victor feeds gulls at the estuary, throwing bits of stale bread in the air for them to catch. Victor befriends every dog he sees, even mean looking ones. Victor almost gets run over rushing across a street to make friends with a black-spotted bobtailed cat, which lets him caress it adoringly and tickle behind its black ears with his long, expert fingers.

Victor shows the triplets swizzles and hops - not even close to jumps - and chases them around with a hockey stick as they swipe at a puck the hockey club forgot. They scream in joy and Victor laughs and laughs.

Victor sits with him in the onsen, arm not quite around Yuri's shoulders, not talking about anything in particular: the latest text Yuu-chan got from Yurio, the new type of ramen Victor tried that day when Yuri was with Minako-sensei. Victor's developed a taste for squid ink in his ramen. Victor's going to teach Yuri's mom how to make Russian dumplings.

Unbelievable.

* * *

Yuri gets off the commuter flight from Tokyo, rushes to Meinohama Station and has half an hour to get to Track 4 and check himself in to catch his JR connection to Hasetsu. He doesn't have time to turn on his phone until he's safely on a non-smoking car and avoiding eye contact with a group of teenage girls who are huddled at the other end of the car, whispering furiously and staring at him like they're trying to decide if they've seen him on TV or not. 

They probably have, even if they somehow missed his embarrassment this weekend. Victor loves Japanese variety shows. Also, he has a magical ability to keep smiling until the producers hand over three quarters of their guest budget, so Yuri can't even argue it's too much work for how much they're willing to pay him to do obstacle courses on the ice. 

Yuri puts his face into his scarf, turtlewise, and hunches over his phone. One text from his mother. Fifteen increasingly demented texts and five voicemails from Yuu-chan, all in the key of "OHHHH??? MY GOD???? YURI?????????" Five texts from Minako-sensei critiquing his posture. Twelve texts from Victor, complaining about his tie, how Makkachin spent the night whining to be let in Yuri's room, and nothing about what Yuri had actually said at the presser. 

Phichit's WhatApp convo has at least thirty unread messages. Some of them are just memes and dogs he's seen in Bangkok, but Yuri can tell exactly when Phichit got his tiny squirrel hands on a copy of Yuri's presser and harassed someone into translating it. 

>   
>  **PHICHIT:** [idecidedtocallitlove1.jpg] [idecidedtocallitlove2.jpg] [idecidedtocallitlove3.jpg] [idecidedtocallitlove4.jpg] [idecidedtocallitlove5.jpg]  
>  **PHICHIT:** you're a meme  
>  **PHICHIT:** i'M SO PROUD MY BABYS A MEME  
>  **PHICHIT:** also don't think we're not going to talk about how somehow you're close enough to victor fuckin nikiforov that you can talk about him and love in the same sentence

Yuri really wants to bury his face deeper into his scarf, but he's a little afraid he's going to suffocate. 

>   
>  **PHICHIT:** also also im best man ofc i have so many pictures i've been saving up for my baby boy's wedding  
>  **PHICHIT:** also also also if you're going to ignore me turn off your read receipts you nerd

Yuri sighs.

>   
>  **YOU:** i want a divorce  
>  **PHICHIT:** jokes on you you have to kill your family

Yuri looks out the window at the scenery flashing past his window. He must have traveled this route a hundred times, but somehow it still seems new to him. There's always little details to notice when you look out. 

>   
>  **YOU:** was it too much  
>  **PHICHIT:** what do you mean too much

Yuri pulls out his 3DS and goes through his Fire Emblem tags instead of answering for a while. Phichit doesn't send more texts asking what he means, just waits. Yuri imagines him lying in his cozy little room in Bangkok, stroking Gold's back until she's a little puddle of hamster on his hand and telling her what a pancake she is.

>   
>  **YOU:** i dunno. was it weird  
>  **PHICHIT:** uh  
>  **YOU:** it was too weird wasnt it  
>  **YOU:** i dont want to make it weird for victor  
>  **PHICHIT:** ok wow stop chill deep breath  
>  **PHICHIT:** what do you mean weird  
>  **YOU:** i said too much right  
>  **YOU:** its weird for victor now right  
>  **PHICHIT:** victors response is victors problem okay

It _was_ weird, then. It's no use, Yuri decides. He'll have to jump off the train into the sweet embrace of death before he has to talk to Victor again or face his family.

>   
>  **PHICHIT:** dude like you know im here if you need me right  
>  **YOU:** yeah  
>  **PHICHIT:** i mean it  
>  **PHICHIT:** CALL ME  
>  **YOU:** okay okay geez mom

"Excuse me," says one of the teenagers. Yuri looks up. "Are you, um. You look like Katsuki Yuri, the skater?"

Victor will be disappointed if he isn't nice to these girls. He plasters a smile on and says, "Yes, that's me."

* * *

Honestly, Victor opens his mouth sometimes and Yuri wonders that nobody's punched him in it yet. Yuri wonders how _he_ hasn't punched him in it yet.

Today for instance, Victor says, "You couldn't even seduce a dog to come to supper with that Ina Bauer, Yuri."

There's a distant ringing in Yuri's ears. Maybe he sees red. He longs to snap back at Victor. _Whose fault is it if I haven't learned to seduce anybody? Aren't you my teacher?_

"Ah," says Victor, looking at him like he's some fascinating oddity under a microscope. "I went too far again, didn't I?"

Yuri takes a deep breath in and lets it out again. "I need a break," he says. 

Victor hesitates for a second, but Yuri stares at him and Victor says, "Sure! Why don't you, uh, run laps? Walk Makkachin?"

"Thank you, I think I will," says Yuri, and skates off to the edge of the ice. He doesn't look at Victor, even though he can feel Victor's eyes on his back. Makkachin wakes up as he pulls his skates off and puts on his trainers, sitting up with a doggy-scented yawn. He follows Yuri willingly outside. As they walk down the steps, Yuri decides he'll jog home and get lunch from his mom and bring it back. The air is chilly, but it feels fresh and clean compared to the rink. 

Yuri goes home at a slow pace, nice and easy, with Makkachin loping beside him. He forgets, for a moment, which dog he has at his side, and the flash of fur makes him stumble. His mother once told him that loving something with a soul would always mean pain when they had to leave you, no matter how small that soul had been. 

When they get back to the rink, two human bentos and one dog bento dangling from the bag in Yuri's hand, Yuri hears music coming from the rink. 

Victor usually composes choreography to classical music, of course, although there was the legendary gala skate to "Edge of Glory", with the equally legendary silver face art. When he skates by himself, it's usually to classical music or whatever he has on his mp3 player. He listens to that on earbuds, so Yuri doesn't know what type of music it is. 

Yuri always imagined that it was more classical music, or some sort of classic pop, like Frank Sinatra or Pink Martini or - well, he's not expecting to walk into the rink and be nearly knocked off by his feet by Icona Pop assuring him that with a love that deep they didn't need no sleep. Yuri staggers under the weight of the bass.

Victor hasn't noticed Yuri yet, focused on the music. This isn't the polished Victor of competitions or even the Victor who coaches him. Victor moves across the ice like he's possessed by the music, wild, dancing like he can't stop. He flings himself into jumps like he thinks if he gets high enough he'll be able to take flight and never have to come down.

The music goes into a hard, thumping bass line, and smooths out before the girls start singing again. Victor leans into an Ina Bauer, goes into a camel spin. He's so amazing. He's the most beautiful creature Yuri has ever seen. Yuri doesn't know if he wants to join him on the ice, to catch his madness and dance with him until his mind goes white and hot and quiet, or just watch him, memorize every movement of his body, the way his shirt lifts up to display flashes of his belly and his skates cut sigils into the ice.

Yuri forgets to breathe, watching him. 

The song ends and goes into a song Yuri doesn't recognize. The singer is familiar but he's never heard this song before. This one is more joyful, less wild. He focuses on his step sequence for this song, and Yuri leans against the boards beside the rink like he can't spare the strength to keep himself upright while Victor dances. Then Victor looks up and catches sight of him. 

Victor's face lights up. 

Yuri's never seen anybody look like that because they saw him. He's frozen as Victor skates toward him, long strokes of his blades and that open, raw look of happiness, like he's spent all the hour Yuri's been gone missing him. 

"Yuri!" says Victor. "You're back! Put your skates on! Let's skate!"

Yuri just stares at him. 

"Yuri?" says Victor. He leans close to Yuri, so close their noses almost touch. It would be easy to lean just an inch forward and touch Victor's lips with his for the first time. Victor would kiss back too, soft at first, and if Yuri didn't pull away, deeper and wetter, just how Yuri had imagined it. Victor's hand would come up to cup Yuri's cheek and he would pull away from Yuri's mouth only long enough to press kisses to his cheek, his jaw, under his ear. Yuri could kiss him back and Victor would let him. Victor would let him put one hand in his silky hair, his fingers sliding through it luxuriously, and the other over the boards to slide up and under his practice shirt, feeling the corded muscles of his back.

Victor's face goes suddenly intent, like he can read Yuri's thoughts. Maybe he can. Maybe Yuri's just being really obvious. Victor's leaning closer, and Yuri drags in a deep, shocked breath. He's going to be kissed. Victor is going to kiss him. 

"I didn't know you liked Carly Rae Jepsen," he blurts out, a millisecond before Victor takes the step between intent and action.

Victor pauses.

"I - I mean," says Yuri, trying to convince himself to back up, to stop talking, anything, anything at all -- 

"Yuri," says Victor. "Dearest, darlingest, Yuri-est --"

"Mom made us lunch!" Yuri jerks away from Victor and almost stumbles over Makkachin as he moves toward the rinkside benches. "I think she gave me carrots instead of broccoli, is that on the approved list? She made Makkachin a bento too! She said it was chicken and rice!"

Victor doesn't say anything. When Yuri dares a look back at him, he's got a dreadful look on his face, all sweet and soft and fond, like instead of freezing up and running away like a _second year student_ in _junior high_ , Yuri at least let Victor kiss him on the nose. "Let's skate a little first."

Yuri swallows hard. "Okay."

He sits down on the benches to put his skates again, and Victor leans on the boards in his turn, watching Yuri tighten his laces and knot them carefully. "Are you still mad at me?"

Yuri looks down at his skates as if they hold the secrets of the universe.

"I shouldn't have said that," said Victor. "I'm sorry."

Yuri takes a breath in. He lets it out. "Just."

"Okay," says Victor. "Okay."

Yuri gets up and walks back to the rink again. He takes off his guards and steps onto the ice. It's easier on the ice, somehow. He makes a figure-eight - right foot, left foot, inside edge, outside edge - and when he looks up, Victor is beside him, watching his skates. 

"I never had to learn those," says Victor. 

"My first teacher said they were good for preventing injuries," says Yuri. 

"I always thought they must be boring," says Victor, thoughtfully. He essays a Circle Eight. It's not quite perfect, but it's still very good. "They're not, are they?"

"No," says Yuri. He does another Circle Eight, and Victor copies him. Then he shows him a Serpentine, and a Three. Victor picks them up pretty quickly, but he's concentrating hard. Yuri peeks up at him from under his glasses, watching Victor's face. 

Skating with Victor, beside Victor, is the best feeling in the world.

* * *

Yuri's never, ever been good at feelings. Usually, he feels anxious or hopeless, possibly both, with a side order of numbness. Sometimes he feels happy. It's not like he's a bundle of nerves all the time. 

He tried to tell Phichit this once at college, two shitty American beers in, and Phichit made a face like he was going to cry. Yuri said, anxiously, "It's not like I want to die or anything!" 

"Oh my God!" said Phichit. "That's not even the point!"

Phichit dragged him over to Campus Health after they sobered up and yelled, in his very accented English, "MY FRIEND IS VERY DEPRESSED SAD PLEASE HELP ME HELP."

"Okay," said the receptionist. "Uh. Please sign in?" 

They signed in.

"Please don't tell Twitter about this," said Yuri to Phichit, who was texting on his phone.

"I would never tell Twitter about this," said Phichit. He paused and added, very ominously, "I am telling my mother."

"That's worse," said Yuri. He would die if he thought his mother knew how bad he felt sometimes. He would be the most terrible son in all the universe. He would - he would fling himself into a black hole if he could. His head hurt from too many shitty beers and crying with Phichit.

"No, because my mother knows what to feed you," said Phichit, thumbs still flying on his screen. "Shhh. Here comes the doctor. We're going to the Asian market after this. I have a list now."

"We can't afford to go to the Asian market," said Yuri.

Phichit said, smiling like a shark, "I'll manage it."

It got a little better after that, but still.

But still.

It's so hard to admit he needs help. It's so hard to admit that he wants something.

* * *

After a while Yuri gets used to going around with a five-time-World-Champion-shaped fungus on his back, or on his lap, or leaning against him. Victor doesn't seem to notice that it's, well, _weird_ , to be hanging all over Yuri, or trying to get Yuri to hang over him. As if he thinks that it's obvious that they should be so near to each other that it's almost impossible to tell where Victor ends and Yuri begins. 

Yuri has never liked touching people, but his body feels lonely if Victor isn't close enough to feel.

Victor likes going to the ballet studio with Yuri. He says it's because he needs to watch how Yuri is practicing his choreography but Yuri has his doubts: sometimes he thinks maybe Victor kind of gets lonely without Yuri, just like Yuri gets lonely without him. LIke Yuri's been lonely for him since he was twelve years old and watching him for the first time. That seems almost impossible, but it's a fact that Victor touches him more after they've been seperated for a while. 

Today they both warm up at the barre and do their stretches with Minako-sensei critiquing them. Victor is still very flexible, and he does absurd, long-legged stretches and bends, one eye on the mirror like he wants to make sure Yuri is watching him lift his leg above his head and grab his ankle. 

Yuri stops looking at Victor when they move to the floor and Minako-sensei begins helping him with his step sequence. Victor is just a presence behind them, doing pilés at the barre until suddenly he takes a series of leaps around Minako-sensei and Yuri, jeté after jeté like he's simply bored of gravity. 

"Victor!" says Yuri.

Victor ends up next to them and puts his hands on Yuri's waist, delicately, and Minako-sensei laughs. "Help him pirouette!" she says. 

"Minako-sensei, don't encourage him!" Yuri begs.

"Can I be Siegfried?" says Victor eagerly. "I always wanted to be Siegfried."

"Siegfried is a chump," says Minako-sensei. 

"I'm not doing the Black Swan solo," says Yuri. "I can't do thirty-two of anything in a row."

"Seduce me with your fouettes!" says Victor, with an extravagantly languishing look from under his mascaraed eyelashes. Yuri remembers when he didn't know that Victor could spend two hours in a makeup store, having intense discussions with birdlike, sharp-boned girls about the rival merits of different brands of oil cleaners and sweat-proof mascara. Victor has a mascara that claims to be based on the formulae of Cleopatra. The time before Yuri had been forced to learn that had been such a simple, peaceful time.

Victor had been not delighted to discover that Yuri's eyelashes looked like they did naturally, and had in fact stalked off muttering about the unfairness of the universe. A minor victory in the fight to keep from letting Victor intimidate him without even realizing what he's doing, but: Victor Nikiforov thinks he has better eyelashes. It's surreal.

Yuri says, "Nobody is seducing anybody." Still, he lets Victor keep his hands around his waist and begins to pirouette, over and over, as fast as he can, until he feels dizzy and then like he's flying, safe in the bounds of Victor's stabilizing grasp. He spins and spins until Victor takes hold of him and lifts him, safe, into the air.

"Good, good!" says Minako-sensei. She claps her hands. "Again!"

As a treat, she teaches them bits of the pas de deux from the Firebird, the first one, where the Firebird and Prince Ivan dance until the bird gives him the magic feather. It's a challenge to learn it without the lifts or going up on pointe, and Victor makes it harder by refusing to dance the Firebird.

"You skated this eight years ago," argues Yuri. "You won a gold medal with it and someone asked you why you chose it, and you said 'I think most men are peacocks at heart, don't you?'" And he had smiled as he said it, sweet and sharp and empty. Victor never smiles like that any more. Yuri doesn't think he'll ever be able to admit to Victor that he knows there's a difference.

"My precious Yuri," says Victor, "if I loved you less, I would be more worried about how many of my old interviews you can quote." He sticks out his lower lip childishly. "I want to see you dance the Firebird. We already know I can do it."

Yuri throws up his hands. "Fine!"

He stands in the center of the studio and closes his eyes. He's the Firebird, a wild thing. His soul is flame and his heart is fire, and he sweeps over the sky. He lands on the tree filled with golden apples and takes the best of them as his right. He flutters and preens out of pure joy. _How lovely am I, the Firebird! How graceful my wings and stately my tail!_

When Victor catches hold of him, Yuri feels a searing shock of anger. What mortal is this, that dares touch him, the immortal Firebird? He pulls away but the mortal follows after him, chasing him, cutting his route of escape, pulling him down as he tries to flee. The Firebird freezes in place, staring at his captor. The mortal is as silver and ice as he is gold and flaming red. There's a look in his eyes that the Firebird doesn't understand. It makes him hesitate, just long enough that the mortal catches hold of him again. He struggles again to be free, but he knows he's not fighting as hard as he could. 

The mortal takes a step back. Almost despite himself, the Firebird follows after. The mortal was strong and clever enough to catch him, after all, which is the first interesting thing that has happened to him in a long time. He takes another step forward, coming closer and closer yet without realizing what he's doing, until at last he stands within the careful cage of the mortal's arms, and allows the mortal to lift him up.

The music stopping feels almost like a physical blow. Yuri comes back to himself as Victor sets him carefully to his feet. They're very close, so close that his chest brushes against Victor with each panting breath.

"That was very good!" says Minako-sensei. For some reason she's looking at Victor with raised eyebrows. "That was a … unique … take on the role of Prince Ivan, Victor."

"Was it?" says Victor. He lifts his eyebrows at Minako-sensei. "I always liked the versions where the Princess and the Firebird were danced by the same person better."

"Eh?" says Yuri. He's not sure what's going on but Victor is smiling his sweetest, shallowest smile at Minako-sensei, and that's not a good sign. He takes a step closer to Victor.

"Hmm," says Minako-sensei. She taps her chin and then says, "Victor, your free leg is terrible."

"Now you sound like Madam Lilia," complains Victor.

"That's a compliment," says Minako-sensei. She claps her hands again. "Again! From the top."

* * *

A week after Minako-sensei teaches them them the Firebird pas de deux, Victor puts his head on Yuri's shoulder and picks up Yuri's hand. He frowns at it. "Your polish is chipping," he says.

Honestly, Yuri's surprised it's lasted as long as it has. "I should take it off, I guess," he says, looking at the streaks of pale blue glitter still clinging to his nails. The triplets like to practice their nail painting on him. Yuri doesn't mind as long as it isn't before an exposition or a competition. He likes it. Wearing it makes him remember to stretch out his hands gracefully during his choreography, to display it.

Victor hums, not quite an answer, and stands up. He returns with nail polish remover, cotton balls, a manicure set, and a plastic baggie of half-used nail polish bottles. There's a lot of neutral colors, but some bright candy colors as well. Victor sets them all out on the low table, looking at them carefully. Finally he picks out a deep crimson color, iridescent, and sets it aside. He holds out his hand for Yuri's and clicks his tongue, annoyed, when Yuri doesn't give it to him right away.

Victor's hand on Yuri's wrist is shockingly warm. He clicks his tongue again at the condition of Yuri's nails. "You should take better care of yourself," he says. He spends half a lovely hour filing them and buffing them before he paints them with the red polish. Yuri feels like he's in a dream, a really good one. The polish is almost the same color as the underskirt of the Eros costume. 

Did Victor ever do this for anybody else? Yuri wants to be the first one Victor has taken care of like this. He wants to be the first person Victor has wanted to take care of like this. He wants to be the only one with the secret of what Victor's head looks like bent over his hands, with that serious, gentle set to his mouth.

"This is nice," says VIctor suddenly. "I like this." 

Yuri says,"I do, too." It feels like he's telling Victor the most important secret he knows.

* * *

Yuri wakes up, feeling suffocated. This turns out to be because he is cuddling Makkachin and Victor is cuddling him, and a standard poodle and a nearly six-foot Russian sandwiching Yuri in a single bed is … a lot. A lot of a lot. Victor has his mouth, slightly open and damp, against the skin of Yuri's neck, like he fell asleep in the middle of kissing him.

For a moment, Yuri's too sleepy to do anything but lay there and feel the warm living beat of Makkachin's heart, the way his fur curls under Yuri's hand, dear, loving, and the deeper, lower rhythm of Victor's breath. Victor's leg is tucked up between Yuri's thighs, and his hand is under Yuri's shirt, cupped over Yuri's navel. 

Yuri's so happy. He's so happy. 

This must be a mistake. Surely Victor is going to wake up and realize that he should be back in Russia, or at least flirting with someone who isn't Yuri, with all his problems and insecurities, and his inability to pass a scale without stepping on it. 

Yet Victor keeps looking at him with soft sweet eyes. He keeps saying, _Yuri, you're so good at this, you're so smart, you're so perfect._ Yuri wants to believe him. Maybe he can keep tricking Victor into believing that he's so smart, he's so good at skating. Yuri knows Victor won't stay - can't stay - shouldn't stay - but he's selfish enough to wish that he could keep him.

He turns in bed and scootches down to tuck his face on Victor's shoulder. Victor doesn't quite wake up, but he moves enough to put his arms around Yuri again and put his cheek on Yuri's hair. He huffs a breath out and goes still, his weight heavy against Yuri.

Yuri closes his eyes and curls his hand into the soft, washed-thin fabric of Victor's shirt. He'll make this enough for himself. He will.

* * *

Victor is waiting for him when he gets back to Hasetsu. Yuri planned the trip so he'd get in late enough to avoid Minako-sensei or his sister or his parents waiting for him at the station, but Victor is there, despite the hour. He's wearing dark wash jeans and one of his softest sweaters, leaning against the wall like he's a supermodel. 

Yuri genuinely considers walking straight past him like he's some sort of fashion poster, but it's been seven months and he's learned that ignoring Victor usually ends up with Victor literally hanging off him and squawking "YURI - YURI - _YUUURRRRRIIIIIIIIIII"_ like a cockatoo from the depths of hell while Yuri tries to skate despite 150 pounds of needy Russian weighing him down. Victor always manages to touch his butt before Yuri shakes him off, too, usually murmuring something in Russian that sounds very appreciative, although Yuri has chosen not to ask what he's actually saying. 

"You didn't have to come meet me," he says.

"It seemed too sad," says Victor. "Here you are, the conquering hero! And it's almost midnight, and nobody to meet you but all these posters."

"I wish they'd take them down," says Yuri, trying to avoid the hundred-eyed, vacuous gaze of his images on the posters. "It's embarrassing."

"I think they're lovely," says Victor, patting one affectionately. "I always wonder what you were thinking about to have such a sweet look on your face."

"Uh," says Yuri, and then pretends to be distracted by dealing with his wallet. Honestly, he doesn't remember what he was thinking about then, just that he skated in front of a giant green-screen while Phichit cackled and took hi-def pictures on his phone for clearly nefarious reasons. 

Phichit still hasn't done anything with them, but Yuri knows it's only a matter of time before Phichit starts his campaign to make Yuri visit Thailand again. It's almost a guarantee that the internet is going to see pictures of Yuri making a jump against a galaxy, or into a Big Mac, or over a rainbow. 

His face does look blissful. Yuri is pretty sure that he was thinking about food or Victor, possibly both, but he would rather die than admit that.

"You're so photogenic, Yuri," says Victor.

Yuri chooses not to dignify this obvious piece of insanity with an answer.

Victor takes the handle of his suitcase and Yuri's hand, as if it's simply natural that Yuri's hand should be in Victor's. The terrible thing is that it does feel natural. Yuri's hand feels warm and protected in Victor's grasp. When Victor squeezes his hand gently,Yuri looks up; Victor smiles down at him, then tilts his head down toward Yuri's in not quite a kiss, almost a headbutt, like Victor is a cat. 

Yuri finds himself smiling back, helpless. "You shouldn't have come for me," he says again. 

"I wanted to," says Victor. "I missed you!"

It was only two days - less than two days. 

Yuri went up the morning of the presser, spent the night after being disappointed at by various JSF officials, and came back after photoshoots the next day. Kosé, for reasons best known to their marketing department, made him pose with a weird thing that pushed out foam in the shape of a rose against his skin, among other indignities, and then dropped him into the clutches of the _tarte_ makeup division, who started muttering about tones and winter florals. 

Mizuno made Yuri change into fifteen different outfits at a rink and do spins and leaps while they filmed him. That was the high point of the day, because at least he was on the ice.

After that, the Lotte people carried him off to pose holding chocolate boxes and pretend like someone was giving him chocolate and he was surprised and thrilled.

"I never got anything but obligation chocolate in school," he said to the Lotte stylist, who was carefully spraying a chocolate-covered strawberry with an aerosol lubricant. Yuri eyed it in some alarm. "Um. Sorry, I don't have to eat that, do I?"

"No, it's just for the camera," said the stylist, and then squinted at him. "Did you go to a boy's school?"

"No?" said Yuri.

"Tutored?" 

"No," said Yuri.

"It wasn't obligation chocolate," said the stylist, with finality, and then, "Now: in this shot imagine someone you like is feeding you this strawberry."

Yuri imagined Victor holding it up to his lips, smiling, the small, quiet smile he gave Yuri sometimes, and blushed.

"Perfect," said the stylist.

It was only two days - but Yuri missed Victor too.

Anyway, after all of that it's a relief to be back home, walking with Victor in the quiet darkness of Hasetsu. The streets are empty, with only a few cars crawling past. 

Yuri tilts his head up. Shreds of clouds cover the sky, but he can still see the stars. It's funny how much he missed this, his own home sky, and never even thought about it. 

Victor squeezes Yuri's hand. "We don't have such nice stars in St Petersburg," he says. 

Yuri looks at Victor. His face is closed off, like it goes sometimes, when Victor is thinking something he doesn't want to share. He looks - not sad exactly. Just distant. Yuri squeezes Victor's hand back. Victor blinks and looks down at him. His mouth parts slightly, like Victor's surprised to see Yuri with him.

"Ah, but stars are much better to look at with someone else!" says Victor, smiling. "Don't you think?"

"Yeah," says Yuri. "I guess."

* * *

The next day Victor is all touchy and playful, like he hasn't been for a long time. Yuri thinks maybe he knew what Yuri had said in the presser, but if he had, wouldn't he have said something about it? It's not like Yuri is looking forward to talking about it. 

They're in the ballet studio, and Yuri is trying to avoid Victor's grabby hands. "Victor!" he says, finally, laughing even as he crosses his arms and tries to frown.

"I want to try another lift," says Victor, pouting. Somehow he's figured out Yuri's weak to that particular look.

"You'll put your back out." Yuri is tempted to try the lift, even as he objects, but it's too dangerous. Victor has no idea how to do lifts and Yuri is still pretty heavy, even if it's mostly muscle now. 

"Have some faith in your coach," says Victor. 

Yuri could have more faith in Victor as a coach - it's clear sometimes Victor is just flailing around. It's a good thing Victor's a genius, honestly. Otherwise he'd just be a human trying his best, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing. He'd be just like Yuri.

But - having faith in Victor himself? That's easy. That's the easiest thing Yuri's ever tried.

"Of course I do," says Yuri.

**Author's Note:**

> the firebird ballet has two principal female roles - the firebird and the thirteenth / grand princess - which are sometimes combined into one depending on how many principal dancers they have in the company. the princess is the one who marries Prince Ivan at the end, although I did run into a Soviet version where there's no princess and the Firebird sacrifices herself at the end, so everybody else is dancing and Prince Ivan is staring tearfully at CGI effects circa 1981 in the sky, because ... Russia, I guess. I was assdeep in terrible cold two of three during January and I watched four different versions of it in a single day and possibly I started hallucinating.


End file.
